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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25596658">Little over sixty years</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexZorlok/pseuds/AlexZorlok'>AlexZorlok</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Pandora Hearts</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Humor, POV Outsider, Post-Canon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:49:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,611</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25596658</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexZorlok/pseuds/AlexZorlok</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In which being a contractor becomes harder to explain after Pandora shuts down.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Vincent Nightray/Ada Vessalius</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Little over sixty years</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrayPapers/gifts">StrayPapers</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Based on: https://twitter.com/astxlphe/status/1288560863125938176</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><span>Theodore is met with a sight of a young man when the door is opened.</span><span><br/>
</span> <span>“Ah, it’s young Theodore, isn’t it?”</span></p><p>
  <span>He has a very nice smile on his face, the definition of hospitality, and he nods just slightly when Theodore introduces himself. He wonders if the man in question could be one of his distant cousins: he’s got long blonde hair, thrown across one of his shoulders in a neat braid, and he doesn’t have green eyes, but that’s one thing that has been lost in the Vessalius household for quite a few decades now— Theodore’s own eyes are light brown.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man at the door looks at him with one eye yellow, and the other — red.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please just call me Vincent.” he says, when the boy is visibly embarrassed from not knowing how to address him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They enter a nice wide parlor. Theodore knows his lineage, is vaguely aware of how the house of Vessalius has gone from being one of the lesser known dukedoms to being one of the four great ones— and then back, all in just about the past two centuries. His own family makes just a good enough living thanks to his father’s job in engineering, and they have nothing to complain about. Theodore knows that so does his distant grandmother, and that the mansion is only kept as an ancient family home, but he can’t help but feel a little jealous as he looks up to the ceiling and around the room; he hasn’t ever been to a place this nice before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The young man — Vincent — starts heading upstairs, and Theodore almost skips to catch up with him, still in awe of the pictures hung up and the amount of flowers on the windowsills.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vincent eyes him as they’re walking side by side and smirks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would put that jaw back up until a fly gets caught, if I were you.” he muses, quietly, and when Theodore snaps his head to look at him, the man is looking straight ahead with nothing but a little smile playing on his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Theodore blushes and closes his mouth shut, not a word leaving his mouth until they’re up on the second floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they enter the library, a woman sitting in a far corner stands up. Theodore forgets the embarrassment and offense the moment their eyes meet, and the woman smiles at him. She’s old — maybe even a little older than Theodore was imagining on his way here, — but that adds kindness to her round face, and her eyes still light up above all the wrinkles when she realises who’s standing at the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vincent leaves his stance beside the boy to rush to her side, instead, gently taking the woman by the shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can sit back down, I’ll just bring more chairs here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be silly, Vince, I’m not as fragile as you think.” she laughs a little, and her laugh is just like the rest of her: bright, gentle, like summer breeze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Theodore also notices the colour of her eyes: green, just like his lineage says they should be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks at her some more from where he’s still standing at the entrance to the library. His distant grandmother, lady Ada Vessalius, whom he wrote a letter two just a couple of weeks prior, having been encouraged to do so by his own grandparents. He got a response in a matter of days, full of welcoming words and a promise of a tea party in a once-famous Vessalius garden.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Theodore catches himself thinking that Vincent doesn’t look like her grandson. The eye shape is too different, and his nose, and his hair is curly whereas lady Ada’s is straight. Vincent pouts at her latest words, a very childish expression from someone who seemed so sure of himself a moment ago on the staircase. Lady Ada laughs some more, giving his hand on her shoulder a little squeeze, and Vincent turns his gaze to the floor for a moment, before returning it back to the old woman, soft, and somewhat unbelieving, and full of love.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Definitely </span>
  </em>
  <span>not her grandson.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lady Ada proposes they go into the garden on this fine afternoon, and so they do, settling in a small pavilion that is practically bathing in the sunlight. Ada’s golden hair has long turned gray, but it doesn’t make her any less fitting in the picture. Theodore lets himself sink into his seat, listening in to the bugs and birds chirping all around them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Vincent, would you be so kind as to prepare everything for the tea?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vincent nods with no objections and excuses himself. Theodore watches his back for a moment before it disappears within the walls. The man is young and full of strength, and it all adds up to his good posture and a neat look. Theodore supposes that a lady of Ada’s age and heritage could very much afford herself a butler, if no other servants, just to have someone keep her company and converse about the daily topics after all of the children and grandchildren have left the nest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you staying with us for long, Teddy?” she asks, and Theodore almost misses the question, too surprised by the sudden use of an endearing nickname. The woman must notice a slight blush on his cheeks, because he chuckles to herself again. She reminds him of his own grandmother like this, always in high spirits and ready to pull him out of his thoughts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m thinking a week of school holidays.” he replies after awhile, having got his posture back. “But I’ll need to go into town a day after tomorrow, so if you’re in need of anything from the market, I’ll be glad to get it for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That would have been very nice of you, my dear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They talk some more, about Theodore’s studies, as well as his parents’ business, and the life in the city in general.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It has been quite long since I’ve last been to an opera…” lady Ada muses, and there’s this reminiscing tone in her face and in her overall expression that all older people have. “Mr Vincent used to take me there whenever they held an especially good play… Have you seen Wagaborn’s Dream, Teddy? I think it was first held two or three years ago…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, so you and Vincent already knew each other then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh of course, my dear! But lately, you see, Vincent has been taking some distant trips… There is something he wants to do for his older brother, you see… An old, old promise. But a very honorable one. Maybe Gil can join us in the opera next time. You would like him, Teddy, he blushes as easily as you do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Theodore coughs to hide the embarrassment, and lady Ada smiles to herself again, and that’s when Vincent returns with the cups and a little kettle to fill them with. Ada thanks him, and he leans down to press a little kiss to her hand, which she uses to pull him down a little bit more and press a kiss of her own on his cheek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vincent’s face flushes slightly, but he recovers quickly, fondness written all over his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this really an appropriate behavior?” Theodore blurts out, his thoughts spilling out without him having time to stop them. Two heads turn towards him, and he rushes to explain himself: “I-I would hate to speculate and give any way to gossip...” he gulps. “But I think he has some...and quite obviously so...romantic feelings towards you, lady Ada.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two share a look, and the faces of both flush. Theodore shifts uncomfortably in his seat. He has definitely crossed a line of propriety himself, and with the way Vincent’s look directed at him is something of unreadable dislike, even more so than it was on the staircase, he doesn’t know he’s going to spend another week here. Lady Ada, though, just shakes her head slightly, before lifting her head back to look at the young man by her side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“After a little over sixty years of marriage… I am lucky to think that he does, indeed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She chuckles, and Vincent has to hide his face for a quick moment to hide the embarrassment, but he also reaches his hand to hers, holding it tightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Theodore’s confusion is evident, because after a moment of this gentle display of affection, Ada sends Vincent back into the mansion, from which he returns with a little photo album.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now then, Teddy...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There are many pictures in there, lady Ada standing in them just slightly older than Theodore is right now, with long golden locks, and a face as bright as it still is to this day. There are other people in the album: a man with raven black hair, a young couple with a little ginger girl next to them, and many others. And among the pictures, right by Ada’s side, there is a young man suspiciously similar to Vincent, too, holding her hand, hugging her tight, flushing at the little compliments or whatever it might be that escapes the young girl’s smiling mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“These are really nice pictures...” Theodore speaks, unsure of what else to say at the moment. “Did you hire someone to take them?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ada shakes her head then, a nostalgic sadness in her eyes, only for a split second.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh no… I would say the camera was one of my family’s greatest possessions, my dear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vincent hugs her by the shoulders, and Ada lets her head fall down on one of his, just like in one of the old pictures.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Some things are forever, Theodore supposes.</span>
</p>
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